


He's My Dad

by Sarah A (HowNovel)



Category: Starman (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1987-08-08
Updated: 1987-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:45:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowNovel/pseuds/Sarah%20A
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While his father is hospitalized with a serious gunshot wound, Scott must find a way to heal him and help them both escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's My Dad

He's My Dad  
BY SARAH ADAMS  
1987

"Anyone hungry?"

"Starved!" exclaimed Scott, slamming his math book closed and jumping up eagerly.

With a smile, Paul shook his head. "I asked if you were hungry. You stay here and study while I get the food."

"But..."

"Study."

"Study," grumbled Scott, sitting back down with his books, while his father left the hotel room.  
  
---  
  
Getting the food took longer than Paul had expected, so he found himself hurrying when he was spotted by the authorities. Experience had taught him not to respond to a police car cruising at normal speed, but when the officer driving the vehicle screeches the brakes and does a U-turn, it's time to run.

He took off down a side street, away from the hotel where Scott waited for him. A quick glimpse into the car revealed the agitated figure of Federal Security Agent George Fox in the back of the cruiser. He had to get away.

Paul reached the end of the street and raced across the main street it intersected as another patrol car arrived to join in the chase. The two cars followed him down an alley, the second car in the lead. At the end of the alley, a high wooden fence blocked Paul's escape.

Desperate, he started to climb the fence as the car drew even with him and the officers piled out, guns drawn. "Freeze, Mister," yelled one as Paul neared the top, knowing that all he had to do was jump down the further side and he'd be safe.

The cops knew this as veil as he did. "He's getting away!"

George Fox scrambled out of the second car as the younger cop fired. "No! Don't shoot!"

Paul's head jerked back from the impact, as his body rolled over the fence, landing hard on the other side.

Fox grabbed the arm of the officer who had fired. "If it dies..." Then, gaining control of his temper, the agent ordered two of the cops over the fence to stay with Forrester until he could work his way around. With a few sharp words he was being driven to an alley that would give him access to his captive.

Oddly enough, Fox felt surprise when he found the alien still lying on the ground when he arrived. So many times Forrester had slipped out of his hands when capture seemed inevitable. Fox knelt by the alien, reached out to touch him, then paused as though afraid it would disappear, or wasn't really there in the first place.

An ambulance siren woke Fox to his duty. "Search him. We have to find out where he's staying; get the boy before he can disappear."

A quick hunt through Paul's pockets revealed the hotel key. As the EMTs began to work, Fox flashed his ID, commandeering the services of two officers to take him to the hotel and Scott.  
  
---  
  
The sound of the sirens drew Scott away from his studies. He listened for a moment, undecided, then started to throw their things together. Whatever was happening had to be big. It might have nothing to do with then, but it wouldn't hurt to be ready just in case.

He placed the bags on the fire escape, leaving the window open. Then he stood by the door, listening. The commotion made by Fox and the two cops as they charged in was loud enough for him to hear and Scott was out the window in seconds. He climbed to the roof of the three story building, aware that he should have hit the street and run, but he had to find out what had happened to his father. Hopefully, Fox would be loud enough to bear through the open window.

"Damn!" swore Fox at the sight of the curtains blowing in the breeze.

"How could he have known?" asked his assistant, Wylie, who had joined him at the door of the building.

"How do they always know?" Fox turned to the cops who had accompanied him. "The boy can't have gotten far. I'm going on to the hospital. And you can tell that trigger-happy friend of yours that if the alien dies, I'll have his badge."

He brushed past them, leaving two bemused officers looking at each other. "Alien?"

Scott managed to stifle his own reaction to Fox's words. He remained where he was for a moment, then shook himself free of the shock to grab their bags, and run down the fire escape on the far side of the building, continuing to travel away from the hotel until he seemed to have escaped the cordon of police brought in to search for him. Only when he felt relatively safe did he pull out his sphere and attempt one of the few tricks he knew well. He used it to find his father.  
  
---  
  
Security was tight at the hospital. Ducking behind cars in the parking lot, Scott had watched Wylie checking everyone going in through the main entrance. And guards were checking employee badges at the others. Even the Emergency Entrance had security, checking everyone brought in for care.

Scott quickly realized his only chance was through the employee entrance but that meant he'd need a badge. An approaching car forced the boy to duck down. He watched as the driver parked, then climbed out, walking away from the hospital toward a coffee shop. He was carrying a lab coat.

Quickly stashing their bags in some bushes, Scott followed the man into the shop. With any luck...he sat a few stools further down the counter.

"Yo, Joey. How ya doing?" An older man behind the counter greeted his customer.

"Not bad, Gus. You?"

"I'm doing okay. Hey, you working on the fourth floor tonight?"

"No, the sixth, why?"

"Something big is going on over there. Some guy was brought in after getting shot by the police. There's security all over the place. Even the Feds." Scott listened to every word while pretending to read the menu.

"Any idea who he is?"

"Not a clue," replied Gus as he poured the coffee. "A couple of the hospital security guards were in earlier and they said no one's talking. But they did say some little guy from one of the agencies in Washington has taken over the place."

"You said the fourth floor?"

"Yeah, why?"

"That's intensive care. If he's there, he must be hurt pretty bad. They can't be expecting him to escape."

"Maybe he's got an accomplice. They're checking everyone's ID badge. Hope you remembered yours."

"Right here." Joey patted the lab coat he'd thrown on the stool next to him. The badge was clipped to the front pocket. How about a BLT tonight. And I'll be right back." He got up and went to the men's room.

Gus turned to Scott. "Sorry about the delay, kid. What would you like?"

"A BLT sounds good to me, too."

"You got it." He disappeared into the kitchen to fill the orders. By the time he and Joey returned, Scott was gone.

A few minutes before the shift change, Scott joined the employees reporting for duty. There were so many, the guard simply checked to make sure everyone had a badge, without checking them closely.

Scott found the stairs and climbed to the fourth floor. The sphere told him his father was close by. After opening the door a crack and peeking through, he found a room with a guard standing by the door. That had to be where Paul had been taken.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out into the corridor. He spotted a nurse's station on the near side of a glass window, complete with windows. The station was empty though, the nurse occupied with his father. While the station covered four rooms, only the monitor to Paul's room was turned on. Farther down the hall, Scott saw another station. Probably Fox had had the other patients moved down there.

With Joey's lab coat, he looked as though he belonged, so the guard ignored Scott as he moved to the window, staring in at the unmoving figure of his father. _I'we got to do something, but what?_

"Orderly?"

Scott jumped, turning guiltily toward the voice while he wiped the tears from his eyes.

"You must be the reason for all the security," stated the man whose badge proclaimed him to be Dr. Anderson. He looked surprised to find a teenage boy as the object of so much concern.

"Is he going to be all right?"

"I don't know yet."

"I want to see him."

"I'm sorry, that's impossible."

"Please. He's my dad. Just let me see him for a few minutes, then you can call Fox."

After a pause for thought, the doctor nodded and led Scott to the door, past the guard; a local cop, not one of Fox's people.

Once in the room, Scott moved to his father's side and took his hand. There was no response. "What's wrong with him?" he asked desperately.

"His skull was grazed by a bullet when he resisted arrest. Right now he's in a coma."

"How long?"

Anderson shook his head. "I'm sorry, son. There's no way to tell."

"But he will come out of it?" Scott felt a pit opening in the middle of his stomach.

"I'm sorry, I can't answer that either." After a moment of silence, the doctor added, "I'we got to find Fox. You'll stay here?"

Scott nodded absently, his eyes on his father's pale face. Vaguely he heard the doctor leave after instructing the guard not to let him leave. He pulled his sphere from his pocket and held it out toward Paul, not quite certain what he hoped to accomplish. He was afraid to try healing him since he didn't know the exact details of the injuries.

Blocking the view from the window, Scott had just activated the sphere, when he heard Fox's approach. The glow disappeared as he closed his hand around the silvery ball and turned to face the FSA agent.

Fox charged into the room, but stopped short when he found Scott waiting for him. "Scott," he breathed staring at the boy who returned his gaze accusingly, blocking his path when he tried to approach the still figure on the bed. "I don't want to hurt it."

"What do you call this?" Scott asked, indicating his father.

"An accident. You know I want it alive."

"Him. Not it, hlm."

Unwilling to argue semantics, Fox turned to the guards who had followed him into the room. "Take him to an empty room and keep him under guard at all times."

"No," Scott protested, turning a pleading expression on the doctor. "I want to stay with my father."

"Mr. Fox?"

"No."

"The boy's being here could speed the recovery."

"How?"

"Sometimes the presence of a person close to the patient can help bring them back, talking to them, or simply by being there. Besides, there's only one way in and out of the room. The boy can't go anywhere, if that's what you're worried about."

Fox considered, then gave an impatient nod. "Very well, but there will be two guards outside the door and two more at the window."

"Thank you," murmured Scott to the doctor.

"There is something I need to tell you about your patient before things go any further, Doctor."

The agent's statement brought Scott's head around in surprise. "You're going to tell him?"

"I told you, I want it alive."

"Why? If he dies you can just dissect him." A bitterness beyond his years colored Scott's voice.

"Eventually, we may do just that, but for now, we'll learn more from it alive. Doctor?"

Dr. Anderson had observed the exchange with a combination of puzzlement and horror warring across his face. "Would one of you care to explain...?"

"Of course, Doctor," agreed Fox with a cold smile. "Is there some place we can talk in private?"

Fox followed the doctor to a small, cluttered office. "Is it going to be all right?" he asked.

"Why do you keep calling him it?" counted Anderson.

"Answer the question, Doctor."

Sighing, the man yielded to Fox's domineering personality. "I don't know yet. Head injuries are unpredictable, but if you're thinking of questioning him...?"

"No, the interrogation can wait until we have it someplace more secure."

"You're can't be thinking of moving him. That could be fatal."

"We'll wait until you say it's safe," replied Fox calmly.

"Just what did that man do?"

Anderson's words touched the crux of the matter. "It's not a man at all, Doctor. Your patient is not from this planet."

"You're crazy," whispered Anderson staring.

"Not at all. That thing in there is an alien being, a fact you should consider in your choice of treatment."  
  
---  
  
When Fox commandeered his office to call Washington, Anderson went back to see his patient. Through the window he could see Scott sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to the guards. Forrester was still unconscious.

He picked up the chart and searched for anything that night back up Fox's incredible claim — any abnormalities in the lab tests, whatever and found nothing. Paul Forrester, an alien? Just as he'd decided to enter the room, he heard himself paged to the emergency room. With a sigh he left.

Unobserved, Scott pulled the sphere from his pocket once again. He knew his father could communicate telepathically with the ball, so he held it in one hand while the other held his father's. Activating the sphere, he concentrated, but nothing happened. Disappointed, Scott deactivated the sphere and returned it to his pocket. He'd try again later.  
  
---  
  
Several hours later Dr. Anderson returned to the room to find that Scott had pulled a chair close to the bed on which he sat with his head on one arm, asleep with his hand still holding tightly to his father's. The boy woke when a nurse entered to take Paul's vital signs.

Abruptly, Anderson decided he had to have confirmation of Fox's story. "When was the last time you ate?" he asked, entering the room.

"What?" Scott stared as if he hadn't understood the question.

"It's morning. When did you eat last?"

The boy nodded toward his father. "He was getting our dinner when this happened."

"Come with me."

"I'd rather stay here."

"There's nothing you can do for him."

Fear touched the tired face. "But, you said..."

"I know. But a few minutes won't make that much difference and you need to keep your strength up."

To his surprise, Scott found himself being led out of the room into the corridor. Two guards moved to block his path, but Anderson waved them aside. "We're just going for breakfast."

"We have our orders."

"Do your orders include starving the boy?" asked the Doctor mildly.

"No, but Fox wants him guarded."

"Fine. Come with us and you can guard him in the cafeteria."

After a moment's conference, two of the guards followed Scott and the doctor to the cafeteria while the other two maintained their positions by the room. "Just don't try anything," they warned, after insisting that the pair sit at a corner table. Trying vainly to look inconspicuous, the guards took another table a few feet away.

Anderson waited while Scott got his food and actually managed to swallow a few bites before he asked the question that had been eating away at him. "Scott, is Fox crazy, or is he telling the truth?"

Startled by the abrupt question, Scott looked up, wondering what to say. He settled for a simple, "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, he's crazy...and yes, he's telling the truth."

"Are you telling me that something has taken over Paul Forrester's body?" demanded the doctor, shocked by the boy's confirmation of Fox's insane story.

"Don't you start," exploded Scott, pushing his plate away. "He's not a thing!"

"How can you defend it? It took over your father's body."

Scott took a deep breath, aware that he couldn't afford to alienate this man. Not now. Not while Paul was helpless under his care. "First, he did not take over anyone's body. Paul Forrester died in a helicopter crash. He copied it. And second, Paul Forrester is not my father." He looked Anderson straight in the eye. "The thing is."

"That's impossible...that...that would mean you're..." Anderson struggled to find words. "I can't believe what I'm hearing."

"I had a little trouble believing it myself at first."

"I don't understand." The doctor shook his head, feeling as though he had wandered into some strange movie or something.

In control of himself now, Scott proceeded to explain how his father had come to Earth fifteen years before and met Jenny Hayden. Then had found it necessary to rejoin his people, but had returned to help the son he'd never met find his missing mother. "If it weren't for me, he wouldn't be lying in that room unconscious," he finished.

"You can't think that way."

"It's true. Ever since he came back to help me, Fox has been chasing us all over the country. It was only a matter of time before he caught us." Scott dropped the fork he'd been playing with. "I'm not hungry. I've got to get back to my dad." He rose, the guards getting to their feet as well.

"Scott, wait."

"For what?"

"Is there anything...special I should know about the-uh-your father? Something that might help me treat him?"

"I went through this the last time he was in the hospital. I don't know what to tell you." Scott shook his head.

Anderson jumped on those words. "The last time?"

"He caught a cold and it nearly killed him. Dr. Duchau ran every test she could think of. If she hadn't figured out what to do..."

"Do you know how to get In touch with her? She might be able to give me a clue as to how I can help your father."

"Yeah...at least I think so."

After Anderson had escorted him to his office, Scott asked if he couldn't talk to the woman first, alone. He had a sinking feeling that the doctor might not be able to help his father. Even though he didn't want to use the sphere, he might have to try. But, to try, he had to know exactly what was wrong. He dialed information, his hand shaking.

"Dr. Duchau speaking." The familiar voice came through the receiver a few minutes later.

"Hello, Doctor. This is Scott Hayden. Do you remember me?"

"Of course I do, Scott. How could I forget? Is everything all right?"

Having a sympathetic ear proved too much for Scott. Tears made a path down his cheek as he finally managed to speak. "It's my dad, he's been shot."

The woman's voice changed. "Tell me where you are, Scott. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Just knowing that she wanted to help made Scott feel better, but be knew that Fox would never let her get near Paul. "Thanks, but you don't have to do that. He's in a hospital."

"Do they know about...?"

"Yeah, Fox is here. But the doctor wants to talk to you."

"I'll be glad to talk to him."

"Great, but I need to ask you something first. I can't explain, but, if I tell you where he was hit, do you think you could tell me exactly what's wrong with him? I mean, inside?"

"I can try, but I don't know what good it can do..." Dr. Duchau sounded dubious.

"Please. It's important."

She agreed, and he quickly described the location of the wound. In turn the woman meticulously explained the type of. trauma likely with a skull fracture.

When she finished, Scott said, "Thanks."

"Do you think you and your father will get away?'

"I don't know."

"Call me if you can. If I don't hear from you again I may start making a little noise of my own."

"I will. Hang on, I'll get Dr. Anderson."

Anderson was just taking the phone from Scott when Fox burst into the room. 'What is he doing here?" he demanded, ignoring the defiant glare Scott gave him.

"We're trying to save your patient's life. Scott told me about Dr. Duchau. I'm talking to her now."

"Dr. Duchau, of course." Fox gave Scott a tight-lipped smile. "Very good, Scott, but now you're going to come with me."

"I want to go back to my dad."

"That's impossible."

"Dr. Anderson?" Scott turned to the man for support.

"Mr. Fox, I think you should reconsider. His father could begin to regain consciousness at any time, and Scott's presence could possibly speed up the process. You do want him alive and conscious, don't you?"

Fox yielded reluctantly. "Very well, Doctor, but I want no more unscheduled trips."

A new set of guards escorted Scott back to his father's room. Members of the local police force, they were much nicer than Fox's usual Federal men.

Although a part of him wanted to heal his father immediately, another part was afraid to try. He'd only healed a bruise before. When Fox appeared at the window to stare, Scott was almost relieved. He needed to find his father's sphere, but couldn't afford to jeopardize his one chance to save Paul. If he got caught shoving any interest in the silver ball, Fox would probably take them both away. The worst part of the situation was that he knew the object was likely only a few feet away, in the locker that leaned against the wall, and be had to leave it there.

Uncertain what to do, Scott sat in the chair for a few minute, then realized that that could be a mistake. If he sat still for any length of time, then moved suddenly, Fox and the guards would get suspicious, so he began moving around the room. First he'd sit for awhile, sometimes talking to his father, sometimes just holding his hand. Then he would get up and walk around as if he were stretching his legs. He fiddled with objects in the room, even took a chance on opening the locker so that if he went back later his guards might not realize what he was doing until it was too late. Then he'd sit again for awhile, changing from the chair to the side of the bed, blocking the view from the window. At first, Fox watched him like a hawk, but even he was eventually lulled into believing that his prisoner's restless movements meant nothing.

Scott was sitting in the chair, holding his father's hand when he felt it move beneath his. Startled, he looked up, but recovered quickly and moved casually to sit on the edge of the bed. He knew he had to be careful. There was an intercom system in the room and every word could be heard at the nurse's station where Fox still watched. Squeezing the hand he still held, he began to talk in the hope that his father would understand the need to remain still.

"They say you might be able to hear me, Dad. I hope you can. If not, I guess we'll just have to wait." He glanced back at Fox, who didn't seem any more Interested in this monologue than he had in Scott's earlier meaningless ramblings.

"Fox is here. He wants to take us back to Washington. Come to think of it, you're probably better off unconscious. Who'd want to wake up to this?" He felt his father squeeze his hand. He understood.  
  
---  
  
A call from Washington finally budged Fox from his vigil. Before leaving he warned the four guards not to leave their posts as their prisoner was extremely dangerous, something they all found difficult to accept.

When they looked at the 'dangerous prisoner', the men saw a kid devoted to his father, a refreshing sight, especially for the cop whose teenaged son sported spiked purple hair. They might have accepted the unconscious Forrester as a menace, but it was hard to see Scott as the menace to society Fox claimed he was.

As soon as Fox was out of sight, the older officer who had been watching Scott since he'd come on duty that morning shook his head saying, "I'm going in there."

"Are you crazy, Bill?" asked his partner.

"You've been watching the boy. Do you think he's dangerous?"

"Well, no, but..."

"You can keep an eye on me from the window." After a brief consultation with the two officers posted at the door, it was agreed. They'd all taken a turn at the window during the day, and felt that four men to guard one teenager was a bit of overkill. Besides, Fox had managed to rub each one the wrong way at some point.

Scott turned puzzled eyes on the officer as Bill entered the room asking, "How is he?"

"No change," lied Scott.

"I heard the doctor say that if you talked to him he might hear you. And I've got a feeling you might have a lot more to say if you weren't being overheard, so I'm going to turn off the intercom until Fox gets back."

"Why?" asked Scott suspiciously.

"Look, I don't know what you and your father did, or what Fox has got planned for you..."

"Lock us up for the rest of our lives," muttered Scott bitterly.

"Just what did you two do?"

"Nothing!" Bill looked skeptical, but Scott didn't know how to convince the man. "It's a long story and you probably wouldn't believe it. If you think we've done something bad, why are you doing this?"

"I've got a son your age. I'd like to think he cares about me as much as you obviously care about your father." He indicated Paul's unconscious figure. "He can't be all that bad. Maybe I can't help you escape, but I don't see how this could hurt. I'll give you as much time as I can." Bill turned to leave.

"Thanks," said Scott, choking back a lump caused by this small kindness. "And about your son. I bet he cares a lot more than you realize."

Bill left the room after giving Scott a slight smile. He headed for the nurse's station, arguing with his partner and the nurse on duty, all the way. He evidently won the argument because he flashed Scott a 'thumbs up' sign and flipped a switch. The speaker clicked off. Hopefully that click would be equally loud when it signaled Fox's return.

Again Scott sat on the edge of the bed, blocking the cops' view of his father, and took Paul's hand in his. "Dad? Dad, can you hear me?" His father had fallen asleep, but he stirred at the sound of his son's voice, opening his eyes.

"Don't move. They can't hear us, but we've got to hurry. I don't know how much time we've got."

"What happened?" asked Paul weakly.

"You were shot. You've been out for hours. How're you feeling?"

"Everything's fuzzy, like before, but I don't feel hot." He sounded puzzled.

"You mean like when you had the cold?" Paul nodded weakly. Scott grimaced. "That was different. You've got a skull fracture this time.*

"Will it go away?"

"Yeah, eventually, but now that you're awake, you can heal yourself." Scott tried to pull his hand free, to pull out the sphere, but his father's grip tightened.

"No. Can't concentrate. You'll have to do it."

"I can't!"

"You must."

"This isn't like healing a bruise. I could hurt you more."

"Get the doctor to tell you exactly what is wrong."

"I already know that."

Paul gave him a slight smile. "Then you knew you would have to do this."

"Only if you didn't wake up. But the doctor also said that if you woke up it would mean you were healing normally. We can just wait." Scott clung stubbornly to that thought.

"Fox won't let us wait, Scott, you know that. As soon as he knows I'm conscious he will have us moved."

"Then we'll escape now." Scott knew as soon as he said it that escape was impossible right now. His father probably couldn't even sit up, let alone walk.

"Scott, you can do it.*

"All right, all right, I'll do it! But even if it works, how are we going to get out of here? Fox has guards all over the place."

"I have a plan."

"Well, you better fill me in now because we may never get another chance to talk."

Paul outlined the plan, his voice fading away until Scott regretted his stubbornness. When his father fell silent, the boy pulled out his sphere, activating it while praying that the guards wouldn't notice the blue glow too soon. He was holding his father's hand and considering what to do first when a click case from the intercom.

Bill's voice came over the speaker. 'Hello, Doctor."

A quick glance over his shoulder showed Dr. Anderson at the nurse's station, reading a chart and talking with the nurse. Scott sighed, knowing he wouldn't have enough time for any healing before they were interrupted. He deactivated the sphere, pressing it into his father's hand.

Paul frowned, but said nothing aloud, knowing he would be overheard. Instead, Scott 'heard' his father say, _No, you keep it._ He flushed slightly. How could he have forgotten that his father was a touch telepath? Even without the sphere he could read feelings, and send thoughts.

Shaking his head, Scott mouthed the word, 'no.'

_If anything happens to me, I don't want you to be without it._

Scott wanted to argue the point, but could tell that his father would hold firm, so he nodded and slipped the sphere into his pocket as the doctor entered the room.

"How are you doing, Scott?" asked Dr. Anderson.

"I'm all right."

"You've got to be tired after all this time. I'm sure we can arrange a room for you."

"No, that's okay."

 _Go_ The thought came through clearly from Paul.

"Are you certain?" asked the doctor, frowning

"I'm all right," replied Scott firmly, answering both of them.

"You won't do your father any good if you wear yourself out."

_Go, Scott._

"I'm not leaving him alone!' Scott's eyes travelled from the doctor to the window. "Damn!"

Anderson followed the boy's gaze and found himself looking at Fox who was openly gloating over his 'prize'. Disgusted by the man's lack of tact, he turned his attention to the chart, and the notes left by the nurse earlier.

Paul felt his son's fear, but could only guess at the cause without opening his eyes. _What is it? Fox?_

"Yes," replied Scott absently.

"What?"

Startled by the doctor's voice, Scott replied hastily, "Nothing."

Anderson moved closer to the bed, on the same side as Scott. "Excuse me," he murmured as the boy was forced to move aside. He observed Scott's reluctance to let go of his father's hand, but was unable to explain it satisfactorily to himself. He frowned when Scott hurried to the other side of the bed and took hold of the hand with the IV in it. "Careful," he warned.

"Sorry." Scott didn't sound sorry, nor did he release the hand he gripped tightly in his own.

Leaning over the bed, Anderson continued his examination, using a flashlight to check Paul's pupil dilation. He frowned, and repeated the action. Muttering a hasty, "Excuse me," he hurried from the room.

"What is it, Doctor?" demanded Fox as the door closed behind Anderson. A quick glance into the room showed that Scott had returned to the other side of the bed, and the unencumbered hand. "Well?"

"I'm not sure. He doesn't seem to be responding the way he should."

"I explained that earlier."

"I know. It's just...I need to talk to the boy...alone."

"Of course."

"I mean away from here. Outside, where he would know you can't eavesdrop."

"Out of the question," snapped Fox, making a cutting motion with his hand.

"He may know something that would help."

"I will not risk losing that boy."

"You don't have to risk anything. There's an enclosed park across the street. You can put guards on all sides. Just keep them far enough away that they can't hear what we say."

"I don't see what you hope to accomplish." Fox frowned.

"I'm working in the dark here, but, if I can get Scott to trust me, to open up, I may learn something about his father that will help. Frankly, I don't know what else to do."

Fox hesitated, his glance returning to the small room with his prisoners. Then, "Very well, Doctor, but I'm holding you responsible."

"Understood." Anderson reentered the small room. "Scott, would come with me? We need to talk."

"I don't want to leave him."

"I need to talk to you. It's important or I wouldn't ask."

_Go._

"Are you sure?" The question was really aimed at his father, but Anderson answered.

"Please, Scott. There are things I need to know about your father, his physiology, if I'm to help him. And you're the only one who can help."

_Go. Talk to him. We may need his help._  
  
---  
  
"I really don't know what you expect me to tell you," said Scott as they walked through the park. The beauty of the day was wasted on Scott when he spotted the four guards on the perimeter of the grassy enclosure.

■Dr. Duchau says I should help you."

Scott stared at him in surprise and suspicion. "Are you going to?"

"I already have...a little."

"How?"

"I know he's awake."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Scott tried to bluff.

"Don't play games with me, Scott. He may be conscious, but if you try to move him too soon, you may kill him."

The man's words confirmed what Scott had already known. He had to heal his father as quickly as possible. "Who said I was going to move him?" he countered.

"According to Dr. Duchau, you two are pretty desperate to get away from Fox."

"What do you expect? He wants to lock us away for the rest of our lives."

"How did you get her to risk her career like that?"

A smile softened Scott's face. "Dad has that effect on people."

"I'm surprised Fox didn't have her locked up. He doesn't seem to be the forgiving type."

"He probably thinks Dad uses mind control or something," Scott joked.

Dr. Anderson looked startled. "Does he?"

"No," protested Scott, realizing that he didn't know all his father could do. "But even if he could, he wouldn't. He cares for people, that's all."

"Scott, you've got to tell me what you're planning." Anderson pressed for an answer.

"What's Fox offering you?" The boy's face went hard and suspicious.

"What?"

"Is he going to let you study us? He's got to be promising you something. Or do you think we're here to take over the world like he does?"

"Scott, I want to help."

"You expect me to believe that after one phone call and a couple of conversations with me you're ready to help us escape? Sorry, I'm not as trusting as my father.

"Scott!"

"You can drop the nice guy act now. I'm not buying it."

"Scott, even if I don't help you, I won't tell Fox. Trust me."

Trust him. Scott wanted someone he could trust. Somebody who could take the responsibility off his shoulders, but his father needed him, and he couldn't take the chance. "I'm sorry. I can't." He turned and ran back toward the hospital.

One of the guards started to pull his gun as Scott ran by, but Anderson stopped him, yelling, "You don't need that!" The gun was slipped back into its holster when the man realized that the boy was going back to the hospital and not running away.

As Scott reached the door to his father's room, Bill caught him by the arm. "Whoa! Take it easy."

Nearly hysterical, Scott fought to free himself. "Let me go! I want to be with my dad."

"Easy, Scott, easy. I just want to slow you down a little."

Scott stopped fighting and looked up at the officer with the hint of tears in his eyes. "I want to be with my Dad."

Bill nodded at the two guards who had moved to block the doorway and they stepped out of the way. Then he released Scott, who, more calmly now, stepped into the room.

A nurse was with Paul, taking his pulse and blood pressure. She looked up when Scott entered the room and gave him an encouraging smile.

"I'd like to be alone with him, if that's all right."

"Of course. Just let me finish up. I'll only be a moment." She made a few notes on the chart, then gave Scott another smile before she left the room.

The door could not be seen from the window since it was on the same side of the room. Scott took the visitor's chair and jammed it under the doorknob before Bill and the other guard moved in to watch him.

Then he went to the locker. With Fox temporarily out of the way, there was no danger in retrieving the other sphere. But the FSA man would be back soon enough. As nice as Bill seemed to be, there was no way he wouldn't report what was about to happen.

Leaving one of the spheres in his pocket, Scott crossed the room to settle himself on the edge of the bed once more, the second sphere lying in his outstretched hand. "Here goes nothing," he said softly as his father opened his eyes. Paul said nothing, but gave his son an encouraging smile.

"You sure you want me to do this?" Still silent, Paul reached out to give Scott's free hand a reassuring squeeze. With a sigh, Scott activated the sphere.

Outside the room, Bill leaned forward curiously at Scott's words, but saw nothing out of the ordinary at first. Then he spotted the glow. Until his partner commented on it, he thought it had to be his imagination. "I'm going in there." He tried the door, but it wouldn't budge. "Call Fox."

Scott heard the rattling of the door, but chose to ignore it, knowing he had to work fast. He concentrated on what he wanted the sphere to do, trying to remember everything Dr. Dachau had told him. Somehow he knew it was working.

Meanwhile Fox arrived on the scene, Dr. Anderson in tow, demanding to know what had happened. "We're not sure," Bill replied. "The boy's locked us out."

"Break it in!" The angry FSA agent went to the window. "Scott, whatever you're doing, it's not going to work!"

Paul squeezed Scott's hand twice, his signal to start the show. Scott turned to stare at Fox, his hand closing around the sphere, but not deactivating it. "You're too late, Fox. I won't let you have him. You're not going to keep him in a cage!"

Scott turned back to his father and opened his hand, angling it so they could see the glow, but not the sphere. They would think it came from him. The glow spread out and covered his father. The heart monitor began to beep irregularly and the pulse and blood pressure monitors reflected a rapid decrease of function. The.ECG went flatline, the alarm ringing as the others went to zero. No one saw Paul's hand moving, affecting the electronics.

"No!" Under the continuing attack of the police officers, the door finally gave way and Fox charged into the room. The blue glow rose away from the body, forming a ball of energy above the bed. Scott placed the sphere in his father's hand as he sent the ball of energy through the wall.

Everyone stared about in shock for a moment until Fox finally grabbed the doctor's arm. "Do something! I need it alive!" Anderson moved forward as the nurse grabbed a crash cart from the hall.

"You're too late! He's gone" Scott told them, staying between the others and the bed. This was the dangerous part of the charade. If he couldn't delay them or convince them that it was a waste of time to try to revive Paul, they would either find out he was alive, or kill him.

"What are you talking about?" demanded Fox as Anderson hesitated.

"Your precious alien is gone. That glow was him."

Fox grabbed one of the guards. "Get down to the morgue. Make sure he doesn't take over one of the bodies."

"Don't bother," Scott's voice held the officer still. "He won't pick a new body yet."

"Get going." Fox's anger broke the spell of Scott's words, sending the guard out of the room. Grabbing the doctor, he added roughly, "Do something. I want it back." Anderson moved toward Paul.

"It's a waste of time. The real Paul Forrester died a long time ago. My Dad was all that kept that body going. Even if you revive him you'll just have a vegetable on your hands."

"I still have you."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Fox, but I'm just an average, everyday teenager. No special powers."

"What do you call what you just did?"

"Me? I didn't do anything."

"We all saw it."

"Prove It." Scott folded his arms calmly.

"A few tests..."

"Won't show a thing. I'm as human as you are. Sorry, but you can lock me up for twenty years and you'll never have the proof you need. And how long do you think you can keep me locked up without proof? New administration, budget cuts and you're out. Too bad I won't be there that long."

"You think he's coming back for you."

"Sure. You'll take me somewhere, he'll follow. He's probably watching right now. After a couple of weeks, a month, maybe, one of your people will be on the way to work, maybe have an accident. Might even be a real accident. And he'll have a new body. Might even be yours." A look of horror crossed the boy's face. "God, I hope not. Can you imagine me calling you 'Dad'?" He shuddered dramatically.

"Get him out of here!" Fox looked ready to burst as he pointed at two of the guards. "There's a police van outside. Take him there and don't let him out of your sight!"

Scott allowed himself to be led out. He couldn't protest. If their plan was to succeed, he couldn't show any hint that he cared what happened to the body his father had supposedly left behind. At least he'd managed to give him the sphere.

Once the boy was gone, Fox turned his attention back to the body on the bed. "Dr. Anderson?"

"It's too late." Anderson turned off the monitors. "But if it means anything to you, I doubt we could have revived him."

"I want that body removed to the van immediately." he pointed to the last regaining guard. "You stay with it," he ordered before storming out of the room to make sure a military plane would be waiting for then.

Dr. Anderson moved to the body, placing a hand on Paul's arm. He frowned, his fingers dropping to the wrist. "Nurse, would you get a gurney and an orderly." He looked at the remaining guard. "You can wait outside."

"Doc, what's going on?" asked Bill.

"I'm not really sure."

"Is this really an alien?"

"That's what Fox told me." Anderson began disconnecting the monitors and the IV.

"And the boy? He called him his father."

"You talked to Scott?" asked Anderson, surprised.

"Yeah. He seemed like a good kid. I can't believe how wrong I was...or what I just saw."

"I think we saw exactly what Scott wanted us to see."

"An act? Why?"

"Fox thinks they're here to take over the Earth," Anderson commented to test Bill's reaction.

"He's got to be kidding!"

Paul had been listening to the conversation. He knew the doctor had guessed he was still alive. He'd picked up the man's surprise when he'd touched him. He also knew that he could escape from the room with the help of the sphere, leaving these two men locked inside, unhurt, but then he'd have to sneak out of the hospital. He could use their help.

"We're not planning to take over the Earth," he said mildly.

Bill jumped a couple of feet back, but Dr. Anderson simply met his gaze and asked, "Why are you here?"

"Didn't Scott tell you?"

"I'd like to hear it from you."

"I came to help my son."

Dr. Anderson nodded, then asked Bill to close the curtains in case anyone came by. Still calm, he went to the locker and pulled out Paul's clothes. "You might as well put these on."

Bill protested. "Doc, what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm helping then escape. Are you going to help or are you going to tell Fox so he can keep then under a microscope until he decides they can learn more by having then dissected?"

The insight from the human surprised Paul, although it was a thought that had already occurred to him. When Bill turned to study him, he knew he looked far more like a frightened rabbit than a menace to the Earth.

With a sigh, Bill shook his head. "There goes my pension."

When the orderly arrived with the gurney, Paul was dressed with a sheet pulled up over him. Anderson informed the man that he and Bill were taking the body out personally and sent him away. Paul climbed onto the stretcher and they wheeled him out.  
  
---  
  
In the van, Scott was growing worried. They hadn't really planned this far ahead. If his father made it to the van, Scott assumed he'd be able to use the sphere to get them safely away. Meanwhile, he was handcuffed to the van, useless. If his father failed, this was it.

His anxious gaze widened when Bill and Dr. Anderson wheeled the stretcher out the door. They dropped it down to ground level and lifted it into the van.

Scott barely controlled himself when Bill next informed the two guards who had brought Scott out that they were relieved and could go back to the precinct. Evidently Bill had enough seniority for them not to question his orders.

"All clear," said Bill once the two men were out of sight. Paul pulled the sheet free, sat up, and swung his legs off the stretcher. "Dad!" Scott grinned, pulling unsuccessfully at the handcuffs in a effort to reach him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Scott. Did they hurt you?" Paul asked, a concerned look on his face. "Nah, I'm okay. My arms are getting a bit stiff though, do you think you could...?" His father nodded, pulling out his sphere. It gloved briefly and the handcuffs popped open. Bill and Dr. Anderson stared at the dangling cuffs as Scott rubbed his sore wrists. "Now what?" he asked.

"We get out of here." They climbed out of the van. "How are we going to get out of town?"

Anderson pulled out a set of keys and handed them to Paul without allowing himself time to think of possible consequences. "Take my car."

"Thank you." Paul smiled. "We'll let you know where we leave it."

The doctor stared. He hadn't expected to see his car again. A smile curved his lips as he realized he had made the right decision.

"Hold it a minute," said Bill indicating the van. 'Do you think you can do anything to this door so it looks like you broke out?"

"You mean like this?" Paul asked. He activated the sphere and the double doors were ripped off their hinges. As an extra measure, he blew the tires. "That'll do." Bill swallowed hard. "Thanks."

"Thank you. Come on, Scott." They ran toward the parking lot where Anderson said they could find his car.

As his father opened the driver's side door, Scott exclaimed, "Our stuff!" He ran back across the lot. "Scott!"

Quickly finding the bushes where he'd stashed their stuff the night before, Scott grabbed the bags and ran back to the car.

Fox emerged from the hospital as they pulled out. By the van Bill and Dr. Anderson moaned and held their heads as though they'd been hit. He swore volubly as he spotted the van doors and even more vehemently when he noticed the flat tires.

After watching the dwindling scene through the back window, Scott turned back in his seat while Paul headed for the edge of town. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Paul looked puzzled by the question.

"You had less than five minutes with Dr. Anderson and Bill and you convinced them to help us. Maybe Fox is right and you do use mind control."

His father took his eyes off the road long enough to stare at his son, horrified by the suggestion. Scott grinned. "I'm just kidding, Dad."

"Don't ever 'kid' about a thing like that. Freedom of choice is one of the best things about being human."

"Hey, I know you never would do anything like that." Scott tried to soothe his father. "But you gotta admit that it's pretty strange. I mean total strangers keep helping us. How do you do it?"

"I had nothing to do with it this time, Scott. You convinced them."

"Me?"

"Dr. Anderson was ready to help before I said a word. Bill also."

"But why? I didn't do anything."

"You cared. You were sincere. Sometimes that's all it takes." Paul smiled before returning his attention full time to the road.

Scott puzzled over his father's words, remembering the long hours of his vigil in the hospital. Which in turn reminded him of his father's injury. "Are you all right now? Maybe we should pull over so you can rest?"

"I'm fine, Scott. You did a fine job." Paul frowned. "There is one thing though."

"What's that?" asked Scott, worried.

"I'm hungry. Are you?"

"Starving," replied Scott with a grin. "But, this time, we go together. Deal?"

"Deal!"

 

THE END


End file.
